Sounds Quotes

Quotes tagged as "sounds" Showing 1-30 of 100
Dejan Stojanovic
“To hear never-heard sounds,
To see never-seen colors and shapes,
To try to understand the imperceptible
Power pervading the world;
To fly and find pure ethereal substances
That are not of matter
But of that invisible soul pervading reality.
To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul;
To be a lantern in the darkness
Or an umbrella in a stormy day;
To feel much more than know.
To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain;
To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon;
To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves;
To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets
Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching.
To be a smile on the face of a woman
And shine in her memory
As a moment saved without planning.”
Dejan Stojanovic

“MOTHER IS WATER

I wish I could
Shower your head with flowers
And anoint your feet with my tears,
For I know I have caused you
So much heartache, frustration and despair –
Throughout my youthful years.
I wish I could give you
The remainder of my life
To add to yours,
Or simply erase
The lines on your face,
And mend all that has been torn.
For next to God,
You are the fire
That has given light
To the flame in each of my eyes.
You are the fountain
That nourished my growth,
And from your chalice –
Gave me life.
Without the wetness of your love,
The fragrance of your water,
Or the trickling sounds of
Your voice,
I shall always feel
thirsty.”
Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

Jonathan Safran Foer
“What about a teakettle? What if the spout opened and closed when the steam came out, so it would become a mouth, and it could whistle pretty melodies, or do Shakespeare, or just
crack up with me? I could invent a teakettle that reads in Dad’s voice, so I could fall asleep, or maybe a set of kettles that sings the chorus of “Yellow Submarine,” which is a song by the Beatles, who I love, because entomology is one of my raisons d’être, which
is a French expression that I know. Another good thing is that I could train my anus to talk when I farted. If I wanted to be extremely hilarious, I’d train it to say, “Wasn’t me!” every time I made an incredibly bad fart. And if I ever made an incredibly bad fart in the Hall of Mirrors, which is in Versailles, which is outside of Paris, which is in France, obviously, my anus would say, “Ce n’étais pas moi!”
What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboard down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war.”
Jonathan Safran Foer

Dejan Stojanovic
“Since there is no real silence,
Silence will contain all the sounds,
All the words, all the languages,
All knowledge, all memory.”
Dejan Stojanovic

Erik Pevernagie
“If we put the sterile mechanism of our brain on hold, we can view an ocean of enticing eye-opening perspectives. Life offers us an array of choices allowing us to discover a spray of overpowering colors, and hear overwhelming new sounds, and smell the intense fragrances of nature. ("The final decision" )”
Erik Pevernagie

Erik Pevernagie
“Let us drop our 'tin ear' and listen to the sounds of the 'real' world veiled beyond our inattention, and overwhelmed by the smoke and mirrors of superficiality. ("Like a frozen image")”
Erik Pevernagie

Hazrat Inayat Khan
“Divine sound is the cause of all manifestation. The knower of the mystery of sound knows the mystery of the whole universe.”
Hazrat Inayat Khan

Dejan Stojanovic
“There is no competition of sounds between a nightingale and a violin.”
Dejan Stojanovic

Erik Pevernagie
“When we feel devastated sometimes by the deafening noise of the daily commotion, the voices of the sea may help us to elope into a haven of new dimensions. Through our "third ear," we can hear inspirational sounds in the symphony of our expectations while discovering uncharted alleys in the chaos of our mind. ("Voices of the sea")”
Erik Pevernagie

Dejan Stojanovic
“In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.”
Dejan Stojanovic, The Creator

Patricia Highsmith
“But there were too many points at which the other self could invade the self he wanted to preserve, and there were too many forms of invasion: certain words, sounds, lights, actions his hands or feet performed, and if he did nothing at all, heard and saw nothing, the shouting of some triumphant inner voice that shocked him and cowed him.”
Patricia Highsmith, Strangers on a Train

“Be music always. Keep changing the keys, tones, pitch, and volume of each of the songs you create along your life's journey and play on.”
Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

Jan-Philipp Sendker
“Who are you? What’s your name?”
“Mi Mi.”
“Do you hear that thumping noise?”
“No.”
“It must be here somewhere.” Tin Win knelt down. Now it was nearly next to his ear. “I hear it more and more distinctly. A soft pulsing. You really don’t hear it?”
“No.”
“Close your eyes.”
Mi Mi closed her eyes. “Nothing,” she said, and laughed. Tin Win leaned over and felt her breath on his face. “I think it’s coming from you.” He crept closer to her and held his head just in front of her chest.
There it was. Her heartbeat.”
Jan-Philipp Sendker, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats

Norton Juster
“Now, remember: they're not for eating, but for listening, because you'll often be hungry for sounds as well as food. Here are street noises at night, train whistles from a long way off, dry leaves burning, busy department stores, crunching toast, creaking bed springs, and of course, all kinds of laughter. There's a little of each, and in far off, lonely places, I think you will be glad to have them.”
Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth

Dejan Stojanovic
“In an endless silence even screams sound silent.”
Dejan Stojanovic, The Creator

Vladimir Nabokov
“I had once been splintered into a million beings and objects. Today I am one, tomorrow I shall splinter again. And thus everything in the world decants and modulates. That day I was on the crest of a wave. I knew that all my surroundings were notes of one and the same harmony, knew - secretly - the source and the inevitable resolution of the sounds assembled for an instant, and the new chord that would be engendered by each of the dispersing notes. My soul's musical ear knew and comprehended everything.”
Vladimir Nabokov, The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov
tags: sounds

Dejan Stojanovic
“Sound unbound by nature becomes bounded by art.”
Dejan Stojanovic

Walt Whitman
“Song of myself
Now I will do nothing but listen,
To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward it.

I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames,
clack of sticks cooking my meals,
I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice,
I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following,
Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night,
Talkative young ones to those that like them, the loud laugh of
work-people at their meals,
The angry base of disjointed friendship, the faint tones of the sick,
The judge with hands tight to the desk, his pallid lips pronouncing
a death-sentence,
The heave'e'yo of stevedores unlading ships by the wharves, the
refrain of the anchor-lifters,
The ring of alarm-bells, the cry of fire, the whirr of swift-streaking
engines and hose-carts with premonitory tinkles and color'd lights,
The steam-whistle, the solid roll of the train of approaching cars,
The slow march play'd at the head of the association marching two and two,
(They go to guard some corpse, the flag-tops are draped with black muslin.)

I hear the violoncello, ('tis the young man's heart's complaint,)
I hear the key'd cornet, it glides quickly in through my ears,
It shakes mad-sweet pangs through my belly and breast.

I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera,
Ah this indeed is music--this suits me.”
Walt Whitman

Steve Rasnic Tem
“Sometimes I wait at the bottom of those dark stairs, I sit at the bottom of the stairs, I wait beyond the bottom of the stairs and listen to the sounds my wife and children make as they sleep, the sounds our animals make as they step carefully through our dreams and out the other side to polished floor and cold window. Sometimes I wait so long I become unsure if I am asleep, or awake, or dead.”
Steve Rasnic Tem, The Man on the Ceiling

Laura Lam
“I was just thinking how the purr of a contented cat is one of my favorite sounds in the world. There's something so comforting about it, isn't there?”
Laura Lam, Shadowplay

Dejan Stojanovic
“A versifier passes through the sound; sounds go through a poet.”
Dejan Stojanovic, Serbian Satire and Aphorisms

“The sound of the airplanes is in the key of war. The thunder of the truck trains, the sputter of the motorcycles, the music of the bugles, and even the howling of the dogs are parts of the symphony of war.”
Clair Kenamore

Laurence Galian
“Do not imagine the Aeons in a human form, for they are whirling energy vortices. Some Gnostics speak of them in terms of numbers and sounds.”
Laurence Galian, Alien Parasites: 40 Gnostic Truths to Defeat the Archon Invasion!

“Music slaps, but hearing your home country music playing in another country. Slaps harder.”
De philosopher DJ Kyos

Deborah Olajitan
“Countless whispers of your love echo softly in my heart.”
Deborah Olajitan

Monique Truong
“But, Mr. Harrison, did you never consider a career in music or, perhaps, as a visual artist?" the interviewer persisted.
"I have a high school diploma. Guys like me, we don't consider careers. We get a job," Corny said.
You're asking him the wrong questions. Ask about the sound of granulated sugar being poured into a stainless-steel bowl, the whirring motor of an electric mixer, or his fist punching down bread dough. A flat, B minor, or C sharp? Or did he prefer music made by others when he worked? If yes, then ask what songs and colors moved this man to make the lightest cakes, the chewiest cookies, breads with tender crusts?”
Monique Truong, Bitter in the Mouth

Walt Whitman
“I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen,
And accrue what I hear into myself...and let sounds contribute towards me.”
Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Michael Bassey Johnson
“When it rains, God sits on his throne and listens to his favorite music — the sound of thunder.”
Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover

John Clare
“The rustling of leaves under the feet in woods and under hedges. The crumping of cat-ice and snow down wood rides, narrow lanes and every street causeways. Rustling through a wood, or rather rushing while the wind hallows in the oak tops like thunder. The rustles of birds wings startled from their nests, or flying unseen into the bushes. The whizzing of larger birds over head in a wood, such as crows, puddocks, buzzards &c. The trample of roburst wood larks on the brown leaves, and the patter of Squirrels on the green moss. The fall of an acorn on the ground, the pattering of nuts on the hazel branches, ere they fall from ripeness. The flirt of the ground-larks wing from the stubbles, how sweet such pictures on dewy mornings when the dew flashes from its brown feathers.”
John Clare

John Clare
“The rustling of leaves under the feet in woods and under hedges;
The crumpling of cat-ice and snow down wood-rides, narrow lanes, and every street causeway;
Rustling through a wood or rather rushing, while the wind halloos in the oak-toop like thunder;
The rustle of birds’ wings startled from their nests or flying unseen into the bushes;
The whizzing of larger birds overhead in a wood, such as crows, puddocks, buzzards;
The trample of robins and woodlarks on the brown leaves, and the patter of squirrels on the green moss;
The fall of an acorn on the ground, the pattering of nuts on the hazel branches as they fall from ripeness;
The flirt of the groundlark’s wing from the stubbles- how sweet such pictures on dewy mornings, when the dew flashes from its brown feathers.”
John Clare

« previous 1 3 4